


Batfam Bingo 2019: Losing a Bet

by Raberba girl (Raberba_girl)



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: Batfam bingo 2019, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Disabled Character, Don’t copy to another site, F/M, High School, Implied/Referenced Forced Prostitution, Implied/Referenced Racism, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Minor proofreading we have a brush with death like mne, NO CAPES, One Shot, Orphans, Romance, Rough Draft, Teen Angst, Teenagers, internalized ableism, internalized classism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-29 19:04:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18784294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raberba_girl/pseuds/Raberba%20girl
Summary: No (Visible) Capes AU. Sixteen-year-old Dick Grayson, a disabled orphan living in a group home, loses a bet and has to ask out the hottest girl in school. Dick/Kori





	Batfam Bingo 2019: Losing a Bet

Batfam Bingo 2019

Square: Losing a Bet (rough draft)

A Batman fanfic by Raberba girl

 

Summary: No (Visible) Capes AU. Sixteen-year-old Dick Grayson, a disabled orphan living in a group home, loses a bet and has to ask out the hottest girl in school. Dick/Kori

 

A/N: This is kind of a high school AU, but not much of it takes place in school; and kind of a "no capes" AU, except that I'm actually not sure whether or not Kori and/or the Waynes genuinely are normal humans. X'D I tried to write it as if either way could be possible.

In any case, Dick is certainly not Robin in this universe and has never met Bruce Wayne.

 

**Warnings for internalized ableism, references to nonconsensual and underage prostitution, and a character suffering a long-term injustice due to racism.**

**Also, although I've researched group homes before for a different fic, it was difficult to find useful information on what daily life is like, so a lot of what's depicted here is just stuff I made up. Sorry for the inaccuracies.**

 

Ftr, "Losing a Bet" is not on my own bingo card, it was a prompt I saw on someone else's card that I got inspired to write for.

 

o.o.o

 

Dick thought he was going to throw up.

 

He stood in the noisy cafeteria, struggling to stay upright on his crutches when he felt so shaky, nervous sweat making his stupid giant glasses slide too far down his nose. He could still taste blood in his mouth from when, in his anxiety, he'd bitten his own tongue. With his luck, the blood was probably going to catch in his braces and look like bits of food (though the fact that he even had braces to begin with was bad enough).

 

 _'She's going to say no,'_ he told himself for the hundredth time. His eyes were fixed on Kori Anders, the most beautiful girl in school, sitting with her usual group. Though she was surrounded by other girls and some guys almost as beautiful and even more stylish than her, she didn't interact with them much, focused on her food and her earbuds. _'She's gong to say no, so you don't have to be worried about rejection, because it's GOING TO HAPPEN.'_

 

He took a deep breath. _'You'll go over there, ask her out, she'll say no, probably look at you like you're a worm who crawled out of a pile of crap (because you are, Grayson, let's face it), maybe say something super-hurtful and cutting, and you'll go back to your lunch and it'll be OVER, mission complete.'_ He sucked in a deep breath. _'Do it. Go. Quicker you do it, quicker it'll be over. Go. Grayson. GO.'_

 

He lurched forward on his crutches. Forced himself to take another step, and another. Heaved his clumsy way over to the table until all the other beautiful, rich, popular people were staring at him in disbelief and disgust for invading their territory with his ugly, pathetic, unworthy self.

 

Kori, however, hadn't noticed him yet. She had gone still, staring off into the distance, frowning hard as her lips mouthed something that didn't seem like song lyrics.

 

"Um. Hey." She didn't hear him. He had to lean far into her line of vision before she finally noticed him. She stared, like she didn't understand why this scrawny, crippled specimen in wrinkled, hand-me-down, charity bin clothes was addressing her. _'SPIT IT OUT. SHE'LL SAY NO AND THEN YOU CAN LEAVE.'_ "Hi, s-so, I was wondering, are you free this Saturday?" He smiled, just because he felt like he was dying and it made him feel better to smile.

 

The others all started gasping and whispering as Kori frowned and took the earbuds out. "What?"

 

 _'GRAYSON YOU FREAKING MORON.'_ "A date," he said, loudly, because he'd already dug his own grave, so why not lie down in it and put his idiocy on full display. _'Everybody, look at me. For your entertainment.'_ "With me. Do you want to go on a date with me?" Ball was in her court now. He steeled himself for pain and humiliation.

 

He'd half-expected the fury that now crossed her face, but he hadn't been expecting her to stand up and _loom_ threateningly over him. She was taller than him to begin with, and with the added bonus of her high-heeled shoes and mane of poofy, curly hair, she _dwarfed_ him. He backed away in alarm, nearly falling. "Why do you ask me to date of you?" she demanded, obviously furious.

 

He was horrified. He'd known he would offend her, but he hadn't meant to make her genuinely angry. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just lost a bet, I'm sorry, I was supposed to come over here and ask you out so my friends would laugh at me when you tossed me out on my ass, so there, I asked you and it's done now, I'm gonna go back into the hole I crawled out of and die there, okay? I'm so sorry. Sorry to bother you. I'm sorry. I hope you have a really nice day after this."

 

He managed to get the crutches turned around and heave-swung out of there, his face burning. The Plastics behind him immediately burst into incredulous gossiping, but mercifully, it was drowned out by the cheering and applause from nearby tables, the sort usually given when a restaurant worker drops a stack of plates. Dick, still burning with embarrassment, grinned sheepishly and waved a little to acknowledge the crowd as he made his way back to his seat.

 

"Holy--!" His friends were cracking up, _alight_ with incredulity and laughter that he'd actually gone through with it and failed in such a spectacularly entertaining way.

 

"Yeah?" Dick grinned, "Well, now it's _your_ turn, Dean; and you'd better brace yourself, 'cause when I think of--" He saw their suddenly changed expressions, pale and shocked. He heard the clip-clop of swiftly approaching heeled shoes, but he didn't put it all together until a hand seized his hair, so close to the scalp that the yanking motion didn't even hurt. Dick, now helpless in his chair with his head held immobile and his neck arched back like a lamb about to be slaughtered, was at the mercy of a still angry Kori Anders. "Why do you ask me the date? Laugh at me? You die? Explain!" she demanded.

 

Dick, freaking out because the hottest girl in school was _touching him_ , had to address the ceiling because it was the only thing he could really see from this angle. "I-- It was a joke. A really bad joke, and it's my fault, and I'm sorry." She obviously wasn't fluent in English, she might not have understood his panicky, colloquial explanation earlier. "I made a mistake. I was wrong. I'm sorry."

 

She shifted her grip to turn his head a little, forcing him to stare into her eyes. It was both terrifying and mesmerizing. "You say the bad joke to make mistake."

 

"Yup, that's right." He was shaking a little.

 

"Hmm." She stooped to look at him more closely. He stared back and shook a little harder, his mouth suddenly dry. Traumatic memories of being pinned down and hurt were clashing with the weird excitement of being made helpless in such a different context. The combination was making him sick again.

 

"You are...scared," she observed.

 

"Could you please let go of my hair? Please?"

 

She released him. He immediately braced his hands on the tabletop and curled in on himself, struggling to control his breathing. Then he forgot to breathe again when she set her warm palm on his back. "I give the date to you, Friday. After when school is over."

 

"Okay," he gasped, "okay. I'll meet you by the auditorium. After school. Friday."

 

"Okay." She removed her hand and clip-clopped away.

 

As soon as she was out of earshot, Dick's friends exploded, and Dick himself buried his face in his hands, unable to believe that he'd _actually scored a date with Kori Anders_. He was going to get in so much trouble if he went through with this, but there was no way he _couldn't_.

 

o.o.o.o.o

 

 _'She's not going to show up,'_ Dick reminded himself, over and over.

 

He was sitting on a bench outside the auditorium after school on Friday. _'She's not going to show up. Just wait an hour, maybe two, then go home and you probably won't get in much trouble after all.'_

 

He was wearing his nicest outfit, which consisted of the only pair of jeans he owned with no holes in them and a pink button-down shirt that had still been in its factory packaging when it had arrived with the other clothing donations. His shoes had once been nice but were well-worn. He'd used a permanent marker to try to black out the scuff marks, but they had dried as purple patches instead. His crutches were propped beside him.

 

He pushed his glasses back up his nose for the millionth time. _'Either she'll have come to her senses by now, or it was a joke on me from the start. Either way, she's not coming, so don't get disappointed.'_ His pocket burned with the credit card he'd stolen. He'd give it back and pay back whatever he spent (eventually...), but he'd needed it for this date. The pittance he earned from job training wouldn't be enough to cover this (if it even happened, which was doubtful).

 

Dick shifted on the hard stone seat. He couldn't believe even this much had happened. He'd been enamored of Kori Anders ever since he'd first laid eyes on her when he was a freshman. He was a junior now, and she was a senior. She seemed even older than that, though, completely grown up. She never interacted with classmates like they were fellow kids, never got involved in extracurriculars; just showed up for classes, responded politely to anyone who addressed her (mostly just teachers and Plastics), then took off in her Corvette as soon as the dismissal bell rang.

 

Although rumors flew about all the people, including teachers, she'd allegedly slept with, she'd never dated anyone. Dick had never seen her on a guy's or girl's arm, never seen her so much as flirt. He'd asked her out solely from obligation, knowing he didn't have a chance, but now he wondered if he wouldn't have had a chance even if he'd been rich and handsome.

 

Here she was, walking briskly toward him. Dick's mouth dropped open, both in shock that she'd actually come and because she'd changed out of her (barely) school-appropriate outfit and was now dressed even sexier than usual. Her ample breasts were nearly bursting out of her top, miles of perfectly toned (and weirdly scarred in some places) bronze legs ended in stiletto heels, her makeup and nails were on fire.... Dick felt incredibly underdressed.

 

Kori halted directly in front of him. "Let's go," she ordered.

 

"Y-Yeah, yeah, of course." Dick fumbled for his crutches, nearly died of embarrassment when he dropped one, and began the arduous process of lowering himself to retrieve it, his worse leg awkwardly stretched out.

 

Before he could reach it, Kori stooped to snatch it up, yanked Dick upright, and practically pushed the crutches into place. "Let's go," she said again. "Where is your car?"

 

"I-I don't have a car, I was g-gonna call a taxi," Dick stuttered.

 

She stared at him. " _Taxi_??"

 

He felt like he was shriveling under her incredulous look. _'What kind of man doesn't have a car suitable to take Venus to a date in?'_ Never mind that he was an almost penniless orphan who lived in a group home and was months away from his seventeenth birthday. "I'm so sorry. I don't have a car."

 

She rolled her eyes and marched away. He stood, feeling like crap, consoling himself with the silver lining that he hadn't stolen any money after all. He only realized that Kori had intended for him to follow her when she stopped, angrily marched back, scooped him into a bridal carry, and headed off again.

 

Dick clutched his crutches awkwardly, shocked at both the realization that she wasn't leaving him behind and also that she was _carrying him_. _In heels_.

 

Which was amazing but also humiliating. "Um," he said, squirming cautiously because the only thing worse than being held like this would be being dropped, "you can put me down, I'll walk, I just didn't realize you'd wanted me to follow you."

 

He finally convinced her to put him down. He did his best to keep up, but she still reached the Corvette first and then stood there, staring at him, as he heaved his way toward her. There were sweat stains on his shirt by now, more from anxiety than exertion, and he kind of wished the earth would open up and swallow him. "Sorry," he panted when he reached her. "I'm very sorry that I suck so much."

 

"...You are different," she finally remarked, then went around to get into the driver's seat. Dick was left to struggle into the passenger's side by himself, which was actually kind of a relief. He might be crippled and clumsy, but he _could_ do things himself, just not as well or as fast as other people did.

 

"Where to restaurant we go?" she asked as she started the car.

 

"Where would you like to eat?" he asked her.

 

She stared at him, and for the first time, it wasn't in a way that was speechless at how outrageously horrible he was. "We eat food _I_ want?"

 

"Yes," he said gratefully, glad that there was _some_ way he could make her happy. Even if it ended up costing, like, $70. "Whatever restaurant you want, that's where we'll go."

 

She grinned, and being _smiled at by Kori Anders_ took his breath away. She backed out of the parking space and drove enthusiastically.

 

She stopped the car at, of all things, a pizza place. She got out and strode into the building without waiting for Dick, who caught up with her as she was ordering "the BIG pizza, with all good things on top of it."

 

"Uh...so, like, a supreme?" the young lady at the register asked cautiously.

 

"All good things."

 

"Supreme is good," Dick said, setting the credit card on the counter. "What would you like to drink, Kori?"

 

"White wine."

 

There was a long pause as both Dick and the cashier gaped. "How about soda?" the girl finally suggested.

 

"White wine."

 

"They don't have wine here, Kori," Dick explained. Even if the restaurant did carry wine, they'd get in trouble for serving it, since Kori was underage.

 

Kori frowned. "No wine?"

 

"We have lemonade," the cashier offered.

 

"What is lemonade?"

 

 _'...She's an alien,'_ Dick thought blankly.

 

"You know what," the cashier said, reaching under the counter, "I'm just going to give you a cup, and you get whatever you want from the beverage dispenser."

 

Kori stared at the waxed paper cup she had been given. "The inside is empty."

 

"You fill it over there," Dick explained, pointing. He had to show her with his own cup. "This is lemonade," he pointed out.

 

"Oh - it is a _lemon_ drink," she realized, looking at the picture on the label.

 

"That's right," Dick said.

 

Kori filled the rest of her cup while Dick was filling his with Coke. She took a sip. Then she made a face, spit her mouthful of lemonade in the nearby trash can, and then dropped the whole drink in the trash. "Too sweet, VERY MUCH," she declared. She plucked Dick's cup out of his hand, sipped, then sighed and tossed it in the trash as well. " _Soda_ ," she declared contemptuously.

 

Dick turned and mouthed _'I am so sorry'_ at the cashier, who pointed to a different employee. The guy, who presumably was the one who'd be cleaning up the mess later, was death-glaring Dick and Kori. "We'll get that pizza to go," Dick called to the cashier, who nodded gratefully at the confirmation that they'd be leaving soon. "Do you just want water?" Dick asked Kori.

 

"No. The restaurants' water taste like plastic and metal. Bad."

 

"Yeah."

 

They waited a few more minutes until their pizza was ready. "How about we take it out to eat on that hill behind the building?" Dick suggested before any awkwardness arose from Kori thinking to eat inside.

 

"Yes." She whisked away with the pizza, leaving Dick scrambling to catch up.

 

Kori was already sitting on the grass, biting into two conjoined slices of pizza when Dick caught up. She chewed thoughtfully for a minute, then sighed and tossed the remainder back into the box. "Ryan lie. Pizza is _not_ 'best food ever.' " She lay back on the grass and closed her eyes. The bite of pizza Dick had taken fell out of his mouth as he stared at Kori's pinup pose.

 

She was stretched out with her arms over her head, back slightly arched, boobs raised, legs carelessly apart enough to reveal whatever was beneath her skirt to anyone at the right angle (Dick was not, and had enough self-control to not lean over and look). A moment later, she relaxed, lowering completely to the grass and crossing her legs, curling her arms under her head. Her eyes remained closed, face tilted upward. "Sun is so _good_ ," she murmured.

 

"Yeah," Dick said lamely, and took a bite of pizza.

 

It was quiet for a while. Then Kori turned on her side and actually snuggled into Dick's leg, and he nearly choked on what he was chewing. She was literally _hot_ , her body uncomfortably warm against his, but he didn't dare move and wouldn't have wanted to, anyway.

 

About twenty minutes passed as Kori napped and Dick ate half the pizza. He was leaning back on his hands, watching the clouds, when Kori finally stirred and lifted her head. Dick smiled tentatively. "Hi."

 

"Hello." She thoughtfully ran a hand down his pant leg, and he shivered despite the heat. "We go?"

 

"If you want."

 

He felt braver in the car, maybe because Kori seemed more relaxed now. Trying to strike up a conversation, he asked, "What is it that you listen to at lunch? With your earbuds. Is it music?"

 

"No music. I learn English."

 

"Ohh, I see. What's your native language?"

 

"Native language?"

 

"The one you grew up speaking."

 

Kori spoke a string a syllables that sounded like complete gibberish to Dick, which surprised him. He'd grown up in a multilingual environment and could usually at least identify what language was being spoken around him, even if he didn't know the meaning.

 

"Huh. Well, English isn't my first language, either," Dick confessed. "I mean, it sort of was, since Mom was American, but Dad wasn't, and neither were most of the other circus folk. My family spoke this total mix of English, Italian, and Romani, and more got thrown in every time we left the trailer. But then we came to the States and Mom and Dad died, and I got sent to ju--"

 

His ethnicity and unusual childhood were one thing, but he probably shouldn't admit to having once been in jail...even though it hadn't been his fault that Gotham social services used freaking _prison_ for emergency placements if all foster homes were full. "--uh, to foster care. And, like, it turned out I wasn't totally fluent in English after all, and all the slang I knew was outdated, and...and it sucked." He looked out the window, his eyes stinging. He hadn't meant to ramble, and he definitely hadn't meant for a commiserating anecdote to turn into something depressing.

 

After a very long pause, when he'd gotten himself back under control, he dared to glance at Kori, and was startled to find her looking straight at him. He hastily looked away again, then darted a glance back. Her eyes were once more on the road.

 

He cleared his throat. "Anyway, I had to learn proper English, too, and you learn fast when you're surrounded by people constantly speaking it. You'll...you'll get it," he finished, feeling ridiculous for saying something encouraging to someone who clearly had everything else going for her.

 

"Parents are dead?" Kori finally asked.

 

"Yeah."

 

"You love them? They love you?"

 

"Y...Yes. Very much."

 

"Hmm...."

 

"What about your parents?" he asked. "Do you get along well with them, or no?"

 

"I love them," she declared, "but they are _difficult_. I am angry."

 

"That sucks."

 

Kori pulled the car aside into a hotel parking lot, to Dick's surprise. As she parked, his mind whirled, trying to figure out if this meant what it seemed to and panicking a bit at how fancy it seemed. He didn't know how he was going to afford even just a meal at a place like this, much less a room, if a better meal than pizza was what Kori had in mind.

 

This time, when Kori noticed him lagging behind, she came back for him. He declined her offer to carry him, and she watched in fascination as he struggled to heave himself along at a pace that wouldn't hold her back. Even so, she remarked, "You are slow."

 

"Yeah," he said shortly. "Broke my legs when I was a kid." He still desperately shied away from the memories of being held down by bigger boys with cruel smiles, screaming in agony for help from guards who took their time coming, subjected to a racist doctor who let his legs heal wrong and gave him nothing effective for the pain. The Wayne Foundation group home he'd eventually been transferred to was safer, friendlier, and even provided him with medication for the chronic pain, but Dick's paperwork from juvie listed his condition as a congenital one, and Dick had never seen the point in contesting the claim. "Sorry."

 

They finally reached the front desk. Dick was so distracted by the sparkling interior, even fancier than he'd expected, that he almost missed how the receptionist warmly greeted Kori by name. "And will you be reserving your usual suite, Ms. Anders?"

 

"Yes." Both women looked expectantly at Dick, who finally jolted in realization and fumbled out his stolen credit card, putting it on the counter. He didn't know whether to pray Mr. Devin had discovered the theft by now and canceled the card, or for the opposite. Whatever happened in a hotel room with Kori Anders, would it be worth the truckloads of trouble he'd be in by tomorrow? Probably not, or at least future him would be cursing present him, but right this moment, a hotel room with Kori felt worth any price.

 

The card went through. The receptionist handed it back to Dick with the tips of her fingers, her smile tight. "Enjoy your stay, Mr....Torres," she said, eyeing his crutches and charity bin clothes.

 

"Thanks."

 

Kori headed toward the elevators, and Dick followed her. They were quiet until they reached the penthouse suite (oh God, he'd probably be aged out of the system before he finished paying Mr. Devin back for this), where Kori shut the door and promptly started peeling off her tiny dress as she strode farther inside. Dick made desperate whimpering sounds, his eyes glued to her.

 

Kori kicked off her shoes and pulled off her thong, tossing it aside, and just like that, she was naked. Then she turned around so that not even her mane of hair was in the way.

 

Dick fell off his crutches. He sat in an ungainly heap on the floor, groin aching with a full hard-on, actual tears in his eyes at how _goddamn beautiful_ she was.

 

"You walk, or I carry?"

 

He tried to get to his feet and failed. Sat there, defeated. Didn't protest when she padded over and picked him up. He ducked his head to surreptitiously sniff at her skin, reveled in her scent; curled his fingers in her luscious hair; dared to brush a kiss against her breast just before she set him on the bed. "You're beautiful," he choked out when she climbed over him and pushed him back so she could start briskly unfastening his belt. "Also, I'm a crippled virgin, so I apologize a million times in advance...."

 

She paused, looking caught off-guard. "You want I am virgin?"

 

"Oh, no, I meant _me_! I'm a-- I've never-- I don't know what I'm doing. I'm going to mess up, I am super very much sorry."

 

"I am not virgin, this is okay?" she repeated intently.

 

"Yes, yes, I am totally okay with that."

 

"Good." She went back to work. "$100 for one hour." She tossed his belt aside and started unbuttoning his pants. "But you, $75, because I like you." She smiled at him, then frowned when she saw his expression. Her hands paused where they were grasping his waistband in preparation to tug it down. "What is wrong?"

 

Dick felt like he'd just been punched. "Y-- Why--" He swallowed hard and dug his palms into the bed, trying to heave himself away. "You're-- You're only sleeping with me because you think I'm _paying_ you?"

 

She frowned dangerously and set a hand on his sternum so hard that he thumped down, pinned to the bed. He didn't even have it in him to struggle. "You no pay? You think I sex to you and _no pay_? I give you this body _free_?"

 

"No," he said dully, "I didn't think that." He'd known, in the back of his mind, that something was wrong, that girls like Kori Anders didn't willingly sleep with trash like him.

 

"I tell that Scott Lauder," she snarled, "I tell that Cole Jacobs, I do not sex to them for _free_." Scott and Cole, both sports players, had missed weeks of school earlier in the year for injuries allegedly sustained in a skiing accident and on a hunting trip, respectively.

 

Kori let go, and Dick lay limply where he'd been released. "I thought you are different," she said, now looking hurt.

 

"I...." Dick slowly sat up. "I didn't ask for this. All I asked for was a _date_. _You_ were the one who brought me to a hotel and took all your clothes off. Do you not know what a fucking high school date is?"

 

They stared at each other.

 

"Do you not...know what a date is?" Dick murmured again, this time as a genuine question.

 

Kori now looked a little uncertain. "We go to the restaurant, we eat food and wine. Sometimes opera or party then to hotel, sometimes only hotel. I give sex to men, men give money to me, I give money to Kom and Mr. Rails. Date is over, I go to bed."

 

Dick's flesh was starting to creep. "Who's Kom?"

 

"My sister. She do find men for me."

 

"Do you _want_ to have sex with those men?"

 

Her face twisted in disgust. " _No_."

 

Dick was growing more and more horrified, but it was hard to focus when Kori Anders was still sitting naked in front of him. "Could you...maybe please put a robe on?"

 

She gave him a strange look. "You do not want sex and naked?"

 

"What I want doesn't matter, we need to talk about something important."

 

She gave him a wide-eyed look, then went to put a bathrobe on. She came back to sit close to him on the bed. "Talk?"

 

"Kori, listen to me. NO ONE should ever make you have sex if you don't want to. Is Kom or Mr. Rails making you sleep with those men?"

 

"My family need money. Father does not like the jobs, Kom is oldest, but I am younger so I must bring money."

 

"Kori, that's _wrong_. It's your _parents'_ job to make money and provide for _you_. I know you're technically eighteen, but this has been going on for at least two years, right?" She had been sexy and aloof ever since Dick had first seen her his first week of high school, there had never been any change in her behavior or reputation. "Maybe longer? That's-- it's child abuse, what they're making you do. Sex should be something you do for _yourself_. I-- Oh my God." How could _Kori_ , of all people, be caught up in something like this?

 

"If I do not give sex," she said slowly, "how do I bring money? Father say no, Mother say no, Kom say no, Ryan is too young. If we give no money, Mr. Rails tell police, we go to jail. We are the illegal aliens. If Mr. Rails do not protect us, we go to jail."

 

What a mess. "Look, Kori, if anyone in your family has to sacrifice themself to protect the others, it shouldn't be the youngest daughter. Are your parents doing anything to earn money?"

 

"No."

 

"Why not?"

 

"They are the king and the queen. King and queen do not work like the _slave_."

 

"...So, if they're a king and queen," Dick said, playing along with the royalty thing, "that makes you a princess. Is it okay to make a princess work like a slave?"

 

"No," Kori said angrily. "No! Why do only I be the slave, and not Kom? Why only I?"

 

"It's not fair."

 

"It's not fair! I am angry!" Kori stormed over to her little purse and dug her phone out of it. She stood with her feet apart and her free hand on her hip as she waited for the call to connect, looking every inch the princess she claimed to be. Then she imperiously started speaking in her foreign language, sounding angrier and angrier.

 

Dick re-fastened his pants and then lounged on the bed, sadly admiring his princess from afar and trying to figure out how to get the rest of her child-abusing family deported in a way that wouldn't mean she had to go with them.

 

[. . .]

 

o.o.o.o.o

 

[. . .] Kori was chatty as she drove. "There are the _beautiful_ fruit trees, Dick, look like rainbow and taste like _glory_."

 

"I'd love to see that."

 

"You have beautiful things in your home? Real home, with parents?"

 

He laughed. "I was born in a traveling circus, so the tents and trailers are my homeland." He told her stories of his childhood, and Kori was enthralled. He told her of flying, and she hummed in pleasure. "The flying is good, _very_ good."

 

When she finally pulled up in front of the group home, Dick didn't get out right away. They gazed into each other's eyes for a while, then she leaned over and kissed him.

 

They made out, stepping up the depth and pace when she climbed onto his lap. She'd actually reclined his seat, their hands roaming beneath each other's shirts, by the time someone insistently started knocking on the window. Dick fought his way through a cloud of red hair to look, and smiled sheepishly. "Hi, Ms. Lisa."

 

"Who is she?" Kori asked.

 

"She...helps run the group home."

 

"She is not happy," Kori observed.

 

"Nope."

 

Dick disentangled himself from Kori, opened the car door, looked down at his lap, decided there was no point in hiding the bulge there, then started to heave himself out of the car before remembering to look for his crutches.

 

"Dick, did you take Mr. Devin's credit card?"

 

"...Yes."

 

"How much did you spend?"

 

"...A lot."

 

"You need to get inside and wait in the office."

 

"Yes, ma'am."

 

Kori was frowning as she looked back and forth between her cowed boyfriend (they had decided during the drive that they were now, indeed, in a relationship) and the angry woman. "You are danger, Dick?"

 

"No one's going to hurt me," Dick assured her. "I did something bad, so I'm in a little bit of trouble, but it's okay, I'll be safe. I'll just miss you a lot, that's all."

 

"I will see you tomorrow," she instructed, pulling him close to kiss him.

 

"Yeah. See you soon." Dick watched her get back in the driver's seat and pull away, then, under Ms. Lisa's stern glare, he trekked into the office. She demanded the credit card, and he gave it to her. He waited for several minutes, then Mr. Sykes, the manager, came in and sat down across from him. "Dick."

 

Dick picked at a spot on his jeans and said nothing.

 

"Hand over your phone. You're on red for a month."

 

Dick swallowed, but took his standard-issue flip phone out of his pocket and gave it up. He'd been expecting as much.

 

"Dick, why did you _do_ this?"

 

He shrugged. There was nothing he could say in his own defense - a beautiful woman had given him a chance, and he'd responded like a horny animal.

 

"Dick, look at me."

 

He considered refusing, but heck, why not. He deserved everything they threw at him (at least, everything they were legally allowed to. The Wayne Foundation people wouldn't withhold food or use mild torture on him like the people at juvie did).

 

"Dick, you understand we would be within our rights to have you arrested for theft?"

 

He swallowed. "Are you going to do that?"

 

"We're considering it," Sykes snapped. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Dick, I don't think you get it. We're here to _help_ you. We _want_ you to succeed, we don't _want_ you to suffer or go to jail, but this wasn't just adolescent mischief. Your placement at this facility might be in jeopardy."

 

Dick pressed his body harder into the chair in an effort to make it stop trembling.

 

"Where have you been all this time?"

 

"That's not your business," Dick said in a low voice.

 

"It very much _is_ our business. While you are in our care--"

 

"I'm almost an adult! I can make my own choices!"

 

"You are still two years away from legal adulthood and we have a responsibility--"

 

"You're not my parents! You're here to feed me and clothe me and put a roof over my head, but you run this place like a _prison_ , _normal_ kids don't have to live like this, get grilled every time they--"

 

Sykes abruptly stood up and thundered, "I am _this_ close to calling the police, Grayson. Go to the Red Room."

 

Dick grabbed his crutches and lurched out of the office, storming down the gauntlet of wide-eyed or grinning boys and grim-faced workers.

 

He paused outside the Red Room, the solitary bedroom at the front of the hall reserved for those who were at the most extreme level of discipline. It was completely empty except for a sleeping bag and small pillow; the window was made of reinforced glass, the door had heavy locks and an observation window. The walls were padded. Dick slowly forced himself inside.

 

"Lie down," Sykes ordered, following him inside and flanked by two assistants.

 

"Why?" Dick asked in alarm, having sudden flashbacks to juvie. None of the WF people had ever outright abused a boy that he'd seen, even the ones who'd been violent and screaming profanities. However, none of them had ever ordered a boy to get on the floor, either; restraints were simply performed when necessary, without an extra production being made of it.

 

"So you won't fall when we confiscate your crutches," Sykes snapped.

 

Dick's hands on the instruments immediately tightened. "I need my crutches."

 

"Not to sleep, which is the only thing you'll be doing in here for the next eight hours. _Lie down_."

 

Dick hesitated. He _really_ didn't want to get on the floor while the adults were still in the room, but his back and hips were aching dully...he was late taking his meds. Deciding to risk it, he braced his feet, which sent sharper pain up into his hips, and started to relinquish his crutches.

 

The full weight of his body sent pain shooting through him, and he nearly screamed when his legs buckled and he started to topple. One of the assistants caught him and lowered him the rest of the way to the floor.

 

"I'll be back in the morning," Sykes said. "The way this plays out will depend on your attitude, Grayson, so I suggest you start working on your apologies."

 

They left the room and locked him in, without even mentioning his pain meds. Dick, still in the clothes he'd worn to school and the date, hauled himself to the sleeping bag mostly with his arms and gingerly worked his way inside. He lay facing away from the door, forcing his body as still as he could make it so that anyone watching through the observation window and cameras hopefully wouldn't be able to tell he was crying.

 

Between the dim safety lights, the discomfort of lying on the floor, the hourly checkups, his buzzing thoughts, and the way the pain in his body eventually started to flare, Dick barely got any sleep. He was lying in a daze at what, judging by the number of checkups, had to be past midnight, when there was a sudden commotion outside. Dick put his glasses on and sat up, facing the door. There was a lot of shouting and lights coming on. Had burglars broken in?

 

He was shocked to suddenly see Kori's face in the observation window. They stared at each other for a minute, then the doorknob rattled. When it didn't budge, Kori turned away and there was more shouting. Dick struggled out of the sleeping bag and tried to stand, but it was too agonizing. He lay on the floor, helpless as a beached mermaid.

 

He jumped when the door burst open. Kori, who'd apparently kicked it in, lowered her leg. She was wearing combat boots and short shorts, and a top that covered most of her boobs but was too small. She marched to Dick and picked him up in her arms. "They're just going to send us to jail," he said miserably.

 

"No," she snarled, her voice fierce. "Father go to jail, Mother go to jail, Kom go to jail, I run. Dick does not go to jail, I won't let it." She was carrying him out to her car, ignoring all the adults ordering her to stop and harshly shouldering them aside when they got in her way. Dick shrieked in pain when one shove jerked his legs.

 

"Hurt you?!"

 

"My meds," he gasped, his arms tightening a little around her shoulders. "I didn't take my meds, so my legs hurt...." _'And my hips, and my back, and basically almost everything below my ribcage....'_ He could see red and blue lights flashing at the top of the street. "It's the police, Kori, we have to go!"

 

She practically threw him into her car and then rushed to get to the driver's seat.

 

As she drove, definitely over the speed limit, Dick buried his face in his hands and tried not to have a panic attack. He failed, because he knew how this would end: they'd be caught and sent to separate juvenile detention centers. He was going back to juvie, and this time because he deserved it, so there'd be no hope of escape. Back to the cold, bitter guards and the cruel older boys, the hazing and bullying and unfair punishments, the cold and loneliness and pain, this time he was _going in_ crippled and he didn't have a chance, he didn't have a chance, this time they'd kill him....

 

"Dick, you are sick?!"

 

He tried to answer, but couldn't even get his voice to work. He couldn't breathe.

 

"Dick!"

 

The car stopped. He thought maybe the police had caught up to them, but then there was some jostling in the open air, and he realized he was being carried again. He lost a little bit of time after that, because the next thing he registered anything other than his painfully too-fast heartbeat and desperate struggle to breathe, he was somewhere else.

 

They were sitting under a bridge, Kori holding him in her lap and sobbing into his hair. Dick could feel himself trembling. The police were nowhere in sight, but neither was the car, or his crutches.

 

"Help," Kori whimpered, her arms around him tightening. "Help...."

 

"It'll be okay, Kori," he croaked, because there was nothing else to say.

 

"Dick?"

 

"Hi. Sorry."

 

Kori cupped his face and covered him with relieved kisses.

 

"I'm okay...where are we, Kori?"

 

"I ran away."

 

"Yeah...."

 

There was the sound of an approaching car. Dick stared as it passed, because it was a limo, but before it had cleared the bridge, it eased to a stop. A man in a nice suit got out and approached. Kori set Dick aside and stood up, her stance defensive and her hands curled into fists.

 

"You folks need any help?" the man asked.

 

"No," Dick said quickly, at the same time Kori stated matter-of-factly, "Yes."

 

The man looked down. "Can you stand, son?"

 

"No. And I'm not your son."

 

"Fair enough. You need a lift to the hospital?"

 

"No."

 

"Police chase us," Kori explained.

 

"Kori!"

 

"Hmm. Well, do you have any parents or guardians I could call?"

 

"No."

 

"Parents go to jail, because they make me give sex to men for money."

 

"She's not for sale anymore," Dick snarled, in case the man got any ideas. (He looked familiar, but Dick couldn't immediately place him and was too wound up to think.) "To you or _anyone_."

 

"Easy, chum," the man said gently. "I just want to help. If you have nowhere else to go, I could give you a meal and a roof over your head while we figure out plans."

 

Dick was about to refuse, when a child's voice called, "Are you adopting them, Dad?"

 

"I don't adopt every stray I find, Jay," the man called back.

 

Two little boys were peering curiously over the roof of the limo, probably standing on the seat in order to reach. The uniformed driver was patiently standing at attention by the nearer back door.

 

Dick still wasn't happy about getting in a stranger's car, but he and Kori were out of options, and a father of young children was probably safe. Dick let himself be picked up by the man, who was kind of huge and carried him effortlessly.

 

"Who are they, Bruce?" the smaller boy asked as they approached.

 

"I don't know who the young lady is, but if I'm not mistaken, the gentleman here is Richard Grayson."

 

"He is Dick," Kori corrected.

 

Dick stiffened, suddenly recognizing the man. "You're...you're Bruce Wayne?!"

 

"The one and only."

 

Dick swore silently at being caught by, of all people, the benefactor of his group home, then yelped in pain when his legs brushed a little too hard against the door frame as Bruce leaned to set him on the seat.

 

The children scrambled inside and continued staring. Dick gritted his teeth as he dragged himself into a proper sitting position. Bruce helped Kori into the limo, then climbed in himself; the driver shut the door after them and went around to get behind the wheel.

 

"You don't look so good. Are you sick?" the older child asked.

 

"Do you have any aspirin?" Dick asked tightly.

 

Bruce frowned, looking troubled. "Are you sure? Are there any other medications you take?"

 

"Yeah, but I missed my evening dose and my legs hurt."

 

Bruce opened a compartment and produced some over-the-counter pain reliever and a bottle of water. Everyone watched Dick swallow the pills. "You should eat food with those," the older boy said, handing over a couple of snack bars.

 

"Thanks."

 

"These are my sons, Jason and Tim," Bruce introduced as more snacks were handed around to Kori, the children, and himself. The boys looked to be about eleven and eight years old, respectively. "And the driver is Alfred. We were just coming home from a party when we saw you."

 

Dick stared at the floor, having nothing to say.

 

"I am Kori, he is Dick. I love him."

 

Dick's face flooded with heat. He didn't know how to take the declaration, but did his best to look at her and say shyly, "I love you, too, Kori."

 

"Aww, that is so sweet," Tim said in a dutiful sort of way that made Bruce chuckle and Jason shake his head.

 

"And I love my boys," Bruce declared, wrapping his arms around the kids. Jason resisted but made more of a vocal fuss than a physical one. Tim grinned hugely, looking like he wasn't sure how to react to a hug but definitely liked it.

 

Dick got more and more drowsy as the pain medication started kicking in and his hips and back stopped bothering him as much. He eventually leaned his head on Kori's shoulder, and before he knew it, his head was in her lap and she was stroking his hair. Apparently he fell asleep completely, because the next thing he knew, he was blinking in the car's interior lights.

 

He wasn't the only one who'd fallen asleep. Bruce held Tim's limp body in one arm and used the other to support and guide a grumpy, groggy Jason. Kori carried Dick, and Alfred unlocked the door for them all.

 

It was a vast house. Their footsteps echoed as they made their way to an elevator. Bruce insisted on sending Kori up first, and Alfred went with her and Dick to show them to a guest room. "I will return momentarily with some crutches for you, Mr. Grayson, and some suitable clothes for you both."

 

"Thank you...."

 

Dick lay on the bed, listening to Kori shower in the attached bathroom. He straightened up in alarm when Bruce came in. "I just put the boys to bed. Did you and Kori want separate rooms, or...?"

 

"Whatever she wants. I'm just...I don't know what I'm doing." He rested his face in his hand.

 

Bruce carefully sat on the bed. "Dick, I-- Hm. I do keep an eye on the places I contribute to, you know, and...well, I know you ran away. and that you used some money that didn't belong to you."

 

Dick drew in a panicked breath, but before he could speak, Bruce said quickly, "Now, Dick, I certainly don't want to see you arrested, and I promise to do whatever I can to help you. But we do have some things to straighten out here."

 

"I don't want to go to jail again," Dick whispered. "That's...." He admitted something he'd never told an adult before. "That's where...they did this to me." He gestured at his legs.

 

Bruce's eyes grew razor-sharp in a way Dick was startled to see from the notorious flaky playboy. "I thought-- Hm. May I see?"

 

"Um...yeah." Dick watched nervously as the man folded up his pant legs and cradled first one calf, then the other, his big hands very gentle.

 

"When was the last time these were X-rayed?"

 

"Um...when I was, like, twelve, I think."

 

"Who was your doctor?"

 

Dick told him, and was startled again when the man swore in a mutter. Kori, standing in the bathroom doorway in a robe with her hair caught up in a towel turban, watched curiously.

 

"Dick," Bruce finally said, setting down the leg he was holding and starting to roll the pants back down before Dick took over, "we'll talk about this more in the morning. For now, you and Kori get some rest, all right? And, I know it's hypocritical of me, but I'm already fudging lines a bit just to let you stay here. Do me a favor and take it easy on any hanky-panky? Particularly because of the age difference."

 

Dick and Kori were only two years apart, which meant it was unlikely a court would find Kori guilty of statutory rape, but both teens were in enough trouble as it was and didn't need any complications. "Um. It might be...easier with separate rooms...." Dick looked at Kori a little apprehensively. "Are you okay with me sleeping in a different room than yours?"

 

She shrugged and said simply, "This house is good."

 

"Right, then," Bruce said, brisk now as he stood up. "Whichever of you wants to switch, let's get you settled."

 

Dick was exhausted, but it still took him a while to fall asleep. His mind churned with both worry and relief. Whatever happened in the coming weeks, at least he knew that this time, he wouldn't have to face it alone.

 

o.o.o.o.o

 

Over a year later, Dick was still at Wayne Manor, now as an officially adopted son of Bruce Wayne. On one particular morning, he gradually awakened to gentle, pleasant sensations, and eventually realized that it was because his fiancée was lying beside him, playing with his hair as she paged through a fashion magazine. "Kori!" They smiled at each other and shared a kiss. "Are you staying over the whole weekend?" he asked.

 

"Yes, Jason wants us all to go to the Knights game." Kori had her own apartment in town, having been employed and sponsored by Wayne Enterprises so that she could live and work in the country legally. With the help of the language tutor Bruce had hired, Kori's fluency in English had grown in leaps and bounds, and by now it was only unfamiliar idioms and some kinds of figurative language she still had trouble with.

 

"Awesome. Have you had breakfast yet?"

 

"I was waiting for you."

 

"Okay. Let me take a quick shower and then we can go down together."

 

After surgery and months of physical therapy and healing, Dick still couldn't get over the fact that he could _walk_ now. It was a beautiful, glorious feeling to be able to walk unaided. Dick still cried about it a little sometimes when he thought of how much Bruce had done for him, how much potential his future held, and also how much had been stolen from him by the cruelty of his old tormentors and doctors.

 

The surgery wasn't the only thing, either. With contact lenses, much more discreet orthodontic devices, an unlimited budget for clothes and toiletries, and a butler who had much more fashion sense than his charges did, Dick was quite surprised to discover that he was apparently very handsome. He was no longer the only one who got dirty looks for being on the arm of a gorgeous person; people sometimes glared at Kori, too, or at both of them for the sheer unfairness of it. Ladies at high society gatherings paid much more attention to Dick than to his siblings, and he was turning just as many heads at school.

 

It was weird. _Really_ weird, and in some ways, Dick liked the attention, but in others, it made him resentful that he had to get adopted and 'fixed' by a rich guy before most people bothered to find out who he truly was and accept him.

 

In any case, his life was very, very good now, and it made him laugh to think he'd gotten a loving, gorgeous fiancée, a wonderful family, and a mansion to live in simply because he'd once lost a bet.

 

o.o.o

 

A/N: This fic needed more editing than usual, but I was in a hurry, so I didn't do it justice.... *anxiously points to "rough draft" notice*

 

There will be a short one-shot sequel to this eventually, for another bingo fill. Other than that, this AU is pretty much complete, unless I happen to think of any one-shots or vignettes.

 

Dick & Kori were supposed to sleep together in that hotel room after she got off the phone (she genuinely likes him by then and does it because she's attracted to him and wants to, not as a job), but I had to cut out that part because extramarital sex is against my religion. (I can write marital sex or non-condoned extramarital sex, but I can't write condoned extramarital sex.)

 

I used to think that anti-Romani racism was nonexistent in the U.S. (except for the mild kind where the offenders work out of ignorance rather than hate), but then a reader sent me some articles showing that some Romani people, depending on the regional culture and how open they are about their ethnicity, actually do experience racism here. D:

 

I got the idea for this story when I wondered what it would be like if Dick wasn't pretty and graceful like he is in every DC canon there is. He'd still have his basic good looks and charm, but with a disability, no money, and a severe lack of confidence, it wouldn't be as evident as it is when he's the able-bodied adopted son of a billionaire. I usually have to wrack my brains to come up with romance ideas, but this was a rare case where I thought of the basic story idea first and then realized it would work great as a romance for my DC OTP.

 

I was trying to figure out why this version of Dick felt familiar. I finally realized he's a lot like Hiccup. XD


End file.
